


Let Hands Speak

by xviichapters



Series: The Quiet World [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Fluff, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Muteness, Set in the same Universe as Thirty-Two and A Third, Sign Language, yes that really soft cheolsoo fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xviichapters/pseuds/xviichapters
Summary: In a world where people can speak only one hundred and sixty-seven words a day, Wonwoo thought that maybe he could finally fit in. But humans are stubborn creatures and there seems to be no place for hand speakers like him -- that is until a one Wen Junhui enters his cafe on Christmas Eve and shakes up all he's ever known.





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eggtartwonu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggtartwonu/gifts).



> Dear Marisol,
> 
> Happy holidays again~ Everything I wanted to tell you is in the note on the tweet so I'll keep this short. Hope you enjoy this little thing! It was a pleasure being your Secret Santa. Love you~ <3 
> 
> * * * * *
> 
> Inspired by: "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Bold** = Spoken speech  
>  Unbold = Signed speech

Wonwoo had always been a bright kid. He was talking by thirteen months and reading since his second Christmas when he received his first ever book titled, _The Garden Fairy_. He told funny jokes that made his parents laugh and he was charming even if he was a bit on the quiet side. He was a kind boy, smarter than most, and would have been popular in school. Too bad he was mute.

‘ _Mute_ not _deaf!_ ’ he wanted to yell the first few months afterwards when the neighbourhood aunties wouldn’t stop gossiping about him like he wasn’t even there.

_“Isn’t it a shame? And such a handsome boy too – so smart.”_

_“I heard it was laryngitis.”_

_“Whatever it was, it’s true; he won’t speak ever again.”_

Words like these followed him throughout his life – in school and at family gatherings; from the customers at the café and from his own friends.

 _Mute not deaf, mute not deaf_ – but it never mattered.

That was why when the government decreed that people could only speak one hundred and sixty-seven words a day, Wonwoo was thrilled. He wasn’t being spiteful exactly – he would never want to wish the same fate he had onto others, of not being able to enjoy their own voice – but he did expect others to be more understanding of his plight. Maybe learn sign language now so at least he wouldn’t be alone gesturing with his hands. But they didn’t do any of that. In the stubborn way that was characteristic to human beings, they stuck religiously – sometimes stupidly – to their speech, buying those damn counters to make sure they didn’t use their words too fast, treasuring them like pearls instead of flourishing into the wordless language that were signs.

Instead of feeling included Wonwoo became even more isolated. He gestured with his hands, expecting to be understood, only to receive the waiting faces of people who would shake their heads in mock regret and expect him to say something with his tongue.

Wonwoo became a sort of recluse; taking to his books that spoke to him in a way people couldn’t and didn’t want to. They were his solitude; his friends. And within the pages, Wonwoo found appreciation for the quiet world.

It’s Christmas again.

He tells his parents he won’t be coming for the family dinner this year and ignores his mother’s disappointment.

“But why?” his mother signed.

“Have work,” he signed back. He’d purposely asked for the Christmas Eve shift, even if it means he would be out front at the counter instead of in the kitchens like he’s used to. The quiet confusion of the customers was still better than his relatives’ pretend concern.

At work, Wonwoo brews coffee and watches people past by on the street. It’s a library café so no one is allowed to talk, even if they have words to spare. A man comes in around noon and points at the chicken noodle soup. Wonwoo chances a glance at his counter and sees he’s only used thirty words so far; _must be saving them for someone special._

Wonwoo wonders what it could be like to have someone like that.

Wonwoo wonders what it would feel like to save words for someone like that. Wonwoo doesn’t own a counter himself – doesn’t need one because he doesn’t have the voice to speak them.

Outside snow starts to fall.

Someone taps his back. “Lock up at six,” Soonyoung, his co-worker signs, “Go home before the storm okay?”

“Okay,” Wonwoo signs back. They both know the younger isn’t going to listen. Wonwoo does this often; he would take the last shift and offer to close up so he could be alone with the books in the warmth of the cafe, coffee machines whirring in the background and the soft flipping of crisp pages as the only accompanying sounds of the night.

No one to have to listen to – no one to try and please.

Hidden away between the shelves, Wonwoo could be himself.

Soonyoung greets **“Merry Christmas”** anyway, gifting him two words, then leaves.

It gets quieter as the day passes, people returning home to their families and home-cooked meals for Christmas. Wonwoo was looking forward to his night alone.

Suddenly the bell goes off wildly, someone hitting the door particularly hard in their rush to enter, and like a cold gust of wind from outside, a boy practically throws himself at the counter, gesturing wildly with his hands. It takes him a while but Wonwoo's completely floored when he realizes.

His actions were making _sense._ The boy was _signing._

“…Oh my god I hope to GOD you can understand me because I’m hungry as hell, my fingers feel like they might fall off, it’s five degrees outside, FIVE DEGREES, and I have no idea how to speak Korean because my dumbass thought sign was enough but I guess NOT. Honestly what the fuCK excuse my finger French I’m just so tired, all I want is to get to a hotel, have a warm bath, drink some hot chocolate and, okay, you probably have no idea what I’m saying ‘cause you’re looking at me all weird, which – actually hey – thank god! At least I haven’t blabbered nonsensically in front of a cute guy but this sucks now I need to find someone else to sign madly at–”

Before Wonwoo could even really process all that’s happening the boy was turning back around to head out the door and Wonwoo has to grab his shoulder to stop him from moving.

The boy freezes, turning around slowly. His hands shake as he signs, “Please tell me you didn’t understand all of that.”

“I understood you,” Wonwoo replies. They stare at each other for a minute. Then, unexpectedly, Wonwoo bursts out laughing. He can’t even find it in himself to be self-conscious about it – his ugly, soundless laugh – because the other boy looks so cute hiding his face in his hands from embarrassment. The boy is tall with black hair and a nice nose, a medium-sized luggage bag next to him.

“Of all the people I could’ve word vomited to…” The boy groans, still hiding his face, cheeks colouring prettily with redness. A slow smile creeps onto Wonwoo's lips.

“Do you want to take a seat? I’m closing up soon and I could help you once I’m done.”

“T-that would be great, thank you.” The boy moves towards a table before turning back around swiftly. “I'm Jun, by the way. Moon Junhui.” He spells out his name slowly. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.”

Wonwoo grins, amused at the boy's shyness. “It's okay Jun, I'm Wonwoo.” He spells it out followed by his name sign – both hands forming the letter ‘W’ and opening up like a book. “Make yourself comfortable okay? Sit by the heater if you need to.”

The boy nods gratefully, heading to the seat nearest the heater. Wonwoo finds himself watching the other male even as he cleans up the café: how his hair is still ruffled from the wind outside; his nervous habit of biting on his lower lip; his fox-like eyes and high cheekbones that were a little foreign looking. Wonwoo has to admit that the other male is handsome.

Jun suddenly meets his gaze just as he thinks that and Wonwoo has to look away, blushing wildly and pretending to look busy.

Wonwoo goes around telling the last few stragglers that they’re closing soon before locking the door and cleans the final cups. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t very smart of him to lock himself up with a stranger he barely knew anything about, but there was something familiar about the other boy which had him trusting him easily. He was lost and all alone on Christmas Eve, and Wonwoo could empathize with that.

Wonwoo makes a hot drink and brings it to him. Outside, the fairy lights have turned on, casting a warm glow across his face.

“Thank you,” Jun says, cupping the warm cup between his fingers. They really were freezing – his nails were practically blue. Wonwoo gets up and brings him a hot pack which he accepts gratefully.

“So I’m guessing you’re not from around here?” Wonwoo asks once he's finally settled into a chair opposite the boy.

“No.” Jun smiles sheepishly. “I just got here from Shenzhen actually. That’s in China if you didn't know. I’m supposed to only be here next year on an exchange but I thought I could get settled in first you know, get to know the city? I thought knowing sign would be enough because of the new rules but I thought wrong! No one understood me, not even the airport staff! Then I got to my hotel and they messed up my reservations so I've been wandering around in the cold for _hours_ trying to find another hotel–”

Wonwoo could only listen on in amusement. Clearly, Jun was an over-sharer, but it was entertaining – delightful, really – watching his hands flying in front of him, forming words only Wonwoo understood, a performance only for Wonwoo to watch.

“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, Jun,” Wonwoo interrupts gently, “But there is no way you’re getting a hotel room this close to Christmas.”

Jun sulked, slumping into his seat. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, and unless someone needs to know it, they’re not going to know sign,” Wonwoo mutters a little quieter.

“That doubles sucks,” Jun echoes.

Wonwoo grins wryly. They don't say anything for a while, just watching the steam from Jun's drink waft up into the air. It’s a little funny, the situation they’re in; one with the ability to speak and one without, but both unable to be understood because they don’t speak the conventional language.

“Hey, why do you even know sign anyway?” Wonwoo asks, breaking the silence.

“I talk too much.” Jun blinks like it’s the most obvious thing in the world then starts to blush when Wonwoo laughs again. “167 words are just not enough for me okay! I run out too fast." Jun huffs frustrated and Wonwoo has to pretend it isn't the cutest thing he's seen. "I learnt sign so I could say more things. I have a friend, Minghao, who volunteers at a deaf-mute school so I usually just signed with him if I was thinking of anything but our other friends got mad about our 'inside jokes' so they all ended up learning in the end.”

“I wish I had your friends.”

Jun smiles. “Yeah, they’re great. I’m going to miss them while I’m here.”

It's then that Jun's stomach decided to grumble. Loudly. His previously calm cheeks bloom red again and he curls into himself, trying to hide his face as well as muffle his stomach.

“ ** _Ahhh_ 对不起 _!_ ”** Jun mumbles out loud, not caring if the other doesn't understand. "I'm sorry!"

In response, Wonwoo gets up and ruffles the other's hair. He doesn't know where this affection is coming from but at least it gets the boy's attention, and Jun looks up to see Wonwoo waving at him to come to the kitchen. Finding not much choice, he follows after him.

Wonwoo is pulling stuff down from the shelves when he enters.

“I don't know what you like,” Wonwoo signs, “But I'm hungry too and was planning on making some good old spicy ramen with chicken and vegetables on the side. Sound good?”

Jun nods enthusiastically. “I love spicy food.”

Wonwoo smiles fondly and returns to cooking. Wonwoo wasn't exactly the best cook but working at a cafe that serves more than just coffee has given him some skills. Beside him, Jun looked like he was itching to do something (it seems like Jun is also the overtly helpful type) so he assigned Jun the job of cutting the vegetables and the boy was a lot better with a knife than Wonwoo expected him to be.

“I help my grandmother cook sometimes,” Jun answers Wonwoo's questioning gaze, “Picked up a few things.”

They find out about each other like that; in the little breaks between the sounds of knives chopping on wood and water sizzling in the pot – no need for words, only hands that do the talking.

Wonwoo learns that Jun has a little brother, and that he is, in fact, a year younger than Jun. Jun learns that Wonwoo is mute but doesn't question further about it – just smiles and signs, “Well thank goodness I know sign, huh?” Jun likes sour food, on top of spice, and Wonwoo is allergic to seafood. Wonwoo loves reading – Jun tries but would much rather watch the movies. Jun’s laugh is loud and boisterous and he only grins back with mirth in his eyes when he sees Wonwoo’s.

(Wonwoo doesn’t feel self-conscious about his laugh after that.)

It isn’t the grandest Christmas dinner but with Jun’s rapid-fire fingers sharing funny stories, it’s the best one Wonwoo has ever had in all his years of living.

After dinner Wonwoo invites Jun upstairs, to where he usually sleeps when he stays the night in the cafe. It was used as a storeroom before, which explains the empty crates still stacked up against one wall, but he’s made it cosy with thick carpets covering the floor and orange lights hanging from the ceiling. There’s a small sofa bed facing the large windows, blankets draped across the back, and some books and speakers stacked in a corner. He goes downstairs to make Jun another drink – hot chocolate with a sprinkle of cinnamon the way he just found out Jun likes – and they squish on the couch, not minding at all that they barely know each other.

Jun drops his head onto Wonwoo's shoulder and Wonwoo finds that he likes the warm weight of it; comforting somehow. They watch the snow falling outside, illuminated yellow, blue, red, from the streetlamps and Christmas lights.

“This is my invitation for you to stay the night if you didn’t know.”

Jun lifts his head, pretending to look shocked. “I thought I was already going to stay the night?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes but can't help but smile when Jun dissolves into giggles. “Don't get full of yourself.”

“Sorry, you're fun to tease.”

“And you're a kid, you know that?”

“Watch it; I'm still older than you.”

Banter like this has never been easy for Wonwoo but with Jun it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Jun gets up sometime later to change into more comfortable clothing from his luggage and Wonwoo does the same, having kept a spare set for nights like these.

Wonwoo sets up the bed and they climb back on the sofa together, no silly fights about who would take the floor needed. Wonwoo is a creature of comfort that has to sleep on a bed every night, and Jun is too much of a cuddler to pass up on the opportunity, even if he barely knew the younger. Besides, it's Christmas.

Everyone needs someone to hold.

“Thanks, for letting me stay, by the way,” Jun says some time in the night when Wonwoo is just about the fall asleep. They're facing each other, nothing but the streetlamps lighting the room. Wonwoo is beautiful; dark shadows falling across his dark features. He yawns and waves his hands, “It’s nothing. I don’t mind the company.” Not if it's yours, Wonwoo wants to add but doesn't.

Jun smiles, snuggling closer towards the younger. Wonwoo welcomes the warmth. He’s about to drift off again when Jun taps him lightly. Bright eyes look up at him from below long lashes. “Wonwoo, do you have anything to do tomorrow?”

Wonwoo thinks about it. “No, not really.”

Jun grins widely before tamping it down. “Could you… Maybe would you want to spend it with me?”

He backtracked immediately after seeing Wonwoo’s shocked expression. “I mean you don’t have to, you probably have friends to spend it with or something, maybe your parents, sheesh how could I forget–”

Wonwoo stops Jun’s hands before they can say anything else.

He smiles slowly. “I’d love too.”

Jun's eyes lit up again. “Yeah? It’s just, I think getting to know the city would be a lot more fun and easier too with someone who knows it, you know?"

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Really?”

Wonwoo nods, humming. “But let's get some sleep first, okay? I'm tired.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” the older boy smiled sheepishly.

Wonwoo can't help but chuckle. “Good night Junnie.”

“Good night Wonwoo.”

It’s only later when they are both seconds from sleep that Jun realizes Wonwoo just gave him a name sign and Wonwoo feels someone kiss his cheek.


	2. Christmas Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Bold** = Spoken speech  
>  Unbold = Signed Speech

Wonwoo wakes up the next morning to a warm but empty bed. There's a sweet scent wafting in the air, something like pancakes with meat frying on the side, and it reminds him of mornings as a child when his mother felt like making something special.

Someone's put on the local radio and Christmas carols drift up from below, turning the room cosy and warm even as snow continues to fall outside. Wonwoo stretches, decides against lying around for longer, and pulls on a random sweater before heading downstairs.

It's quiet, as it should be, the only sounds being the music playing and the lovely clattering of a fully stocked kitchen in use. Morning light filters in through the cafe's wide windows, casting soft yellow across the walls and giving the room a sort of glow. It's neither too warm nor too cold. It feels like a good morning. It feels like Christmas.

Wonwoo pads softly towards the kitchen where the wonderful smells and noises were coming from.

Inside, Jun is pottering about, looking for all the world like he belonged there. There are pancakes frying on the stove and a fresh plate of bacon with the oil still dripping hot cooling on the counter. There's some rice too, and a bunch of side dishes that Wonwoo has never seen before but could guess were probably some of the foods Jun was used to eating back home.

The older boy has an apron tied around his waist and humming to the song on the radio. It's too domestic,  _too easy_  for two people who had just met the day before, but Wonwoo's willing to let the Christmas air work its magic.

He's read too many books with similar fairytale beginnings to not want one of his own. Even if it's just for today, Wonwoo would indulge in it.

He leans against the doorframe for a while, watching the elder.

Jun must've felt the weight of his gaze because he turns around soon after, face breaking into a wide grin that throws Wonwoo slightly off-kilter.

“Merry Christmas,” Jun signs, “And good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“I did.” Wonwoo smiles back. “You're warm.”

Wonwoo doesn't miss the subtle blush that colours the other's cheeks _._ “That's... nice to hear. But I'm also good at other things besides being a personal heater. I hope you like pancakes! And that you're not allergic to nuts.” At that last thought, Jun's mouth twists up into a little frown that Wonwoo thinks is cute.

“I'm not allergic to nuts,” he assures. “And I love pancakes, thanks.”

Jun beams again. “I'm almost done here. Wanna bring the food out so we can eat on proper tables and chairs?”

Wonwoo gives a mock salute and proceeds to set up a table for the both of them. He brews drinks while waiting for Jun to bring out the last of the food he was making, which turns out to be a plate of eggs with some cut fruits on the side.

Jun smiles sheepishly when he sees the two tables nearly overflowing with all the things he prepared. “Sorry I got a little carried away. My mom always said a big breakfast makes for happy people.”

“Your mom's smart.” In a second Wonwoo's already reaching out for a pancake and drizzling ungodly amounts of syrup on it. He only looks up when he feels eyes on him. “What?”

Jun shakes his head, chuckling slightly. “Nothing. But seriously though, we can go replace the ingredients I used later. I’ll pay.”

Wonwoo waves it off. “Nah, the boss is my friend anyway. I do this all time - he gets it.”

“You have friends?” Jun asks jokingly. Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Friend,” he corrects. “Singular. His name's Soonyoung and I only let him stick around because he wouldn't leave when I told him to and we've known each other since we were like, in diapers, so our parents know each other.”

Jun nods and they eat in silence after that. Not a bad silence – not the kind that speaking folk would desperately want to fill. That  _Wonwoo_  would desperately want to fill even though he can't because he hates the awkward silences, the pitying looks of  _‘Oh, poor boy he can't speak’_ and the handicap of not being understood.

He likes that Jun doesn’t make him feel guilty about not being able to say anything.

“So,” Jun starts after they’ve cleaned everything up and gone back upstairs to cuddle again on the sofa-bed, “What are we doing today?”

Wonwoo shrugs, “I don’t know, what do _you_ want to do? I'm just the guide.”

Jun rolls his eyes. “Isn’t the guide supposed to be the one fixing the itinerary?”

“Bad choice of words – I’m not a guide. I don’t do decisions. But I can be your companion though.”

Jun sighs, slumping across the sofa. Wonwoo likes watching Jun; likes the way his hair is still a mess despite it being close to three hours after they've woken up, likes the face he has on when he’s thinking – the knit of his brows, eyes looking up in thought, the small pout of his lips.

Jun's face breaks into a grin. “Take me to your favourite places then! Wherever you like to go in your free time, I wanna see it.”

“I'm a boring guy.”

“I don't think that at all.” Jun nudges his chin to the corner where Wonwoo’s kept all his favourite things. “Take me to your favourite bookstore and the place where you got those records. Then let's do other Christmas shit along the way like ice-skating and baking cookies and having snowballs fights. We'll take pictures of the light-up and walk until our shoes soak through. I want the best Christmas ever.” Jun sticks out a pinky. “As my companion, you have to promise me that.”

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“Hey!” Jun hits him on the arm and Wonwoo lets out an exaggerated groan.

“Promise!”

Wonwoo sighs but takes the finger anyway. “Okay, I promise.”

Jun grins. “Great. But let's just stay here for a minute longer.”

“Why?”

Jun laughs and it's like the sun. It's like a million pieces falling into place. “You look cute in my sweater.”

 

The snow has stopped when they're finally out the store again. They stopped at Wonwoo’s place just a few blocks down so they could have a warm shower and change into clean clothes. It’s not as awkward as Wonwoo thought it would be, Jun seemingly able to fit naturally into any part of his life. His presence fills up the small apartment and when Wonwoo takes one last sweep of it as he's locking the door, the place feels empty.

Jun’s nose and cheeks turn red in the cold and Wonwoo thinks it’s pretty.

Their hands brush as they walk and Jun’s blush grows when Wonwoo takes it, tangling their fingers together. Jun’s grin is shy and Wonwoo thinks he’s absolutely beautiful.

The good feeling doesn’t last.

The small roads they’ve been walking on merges into larger ones and suddenly they're downtown, smack dab in the centre of the busiest crossroads in the city. There are so many people and they're all walking so fast, talking so loudly because it's Christmas and they get twice the number of words to speak today.

A cold, shocking realization floods through his veins. He can’t do this.

What made him think he could do this?

He doesn’t even realize he's stopped walking - could barely focus when Jun shakes his shoulders, concern written across his face. “You okay?” Jun asks slowly.

Wonwoo shakes his head vigorously.

“Why? What's wrong?”

Wonwoo can’t even lift his hands to sign. They’re shaking so badly.

Jun takes them into his own again, massaging gentle circles into the palm with his thumbs. “Wonwoo,tell me what's wrong.”

Slowly, his hands begin to speak. “I...I can’t do this. I can’t bring you around the city. I’m probably the worst person you could’ve asked to take you around because no one can fucking understand me!”

“What–”

“I can’t even help you order food! You’ll get hungry and tired but you wouldn’t even say anything because you’re too fucking nice–”

“Won–”

“And what if you fall sick? What if something bad happens and there no one’s around? I can’t yell for help! I can’t even call for an ambulance, they wouldn’t know where you are! What kind of shitty guide am I–”

“ **Wonwoo!”** Jun yells his name out loud and he shuts up, eyes going wide. It sounds funny, accented, but it’s the first time Wonwoo's heard the younger say his name out loud. “Wonwoo would you please calm down and listen to me?”

Jun's face softens. “You said it yourself, you're not a guide, you're my companion, remember?”

Wonwoo nods slowly. “Okay. So take me to wherever you’re most comfortable with. If its kind to you, then I’m sure it’ll be kind to me. I don’t need to see everything now and I’ll only be able to go to sign-friendly places anyway, at least until I properly learn the language.” Jun smiles and Wonwoo feels his heart calm. “Then sometime in the future when I do learn, it’ll be my turn to bring you around okay? So you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

The implication of those words doesn’t occur to Wonwoo until later when they’re both wrapped tightly in warm blankets in the comfort of his bed at home. For now, he just nods and lets Jun guide him to a bench away from the crowds so he can catch his breath again. Jun talks to him slowly, nothing important, but it gives Wonwoo a sense of normalcy. He laughs at a stupid joke the younger makes and the pressure ease up in his lungs. They sit on the bench for a few more minutes, wrapped up in a little bubble of their own making and not caring at all that some people looked at them curiously, their fingers making stories only they understood.

They head to the quieter parts of town after that, Wonwoo bringing them to a neighbourhood skating rink that was much less crowded than the one in the city. He isn't too bad himself but Junhui was beyond beautiful. He did multiple jumps and twirls with a practised grace that took Wonwoo’s breath away and it doesn’t take him long to realize he'd much rather watch Junhui on the sidelines than skate himself.

They go to a nearby coffeehouse for lunch where they share more stories and receive more curious glances which they ignore. They take a bus to the arty side of town and Wonwoo brings the younger to his favourite bookshops and the record store down the road, as per requested.

Their hands don’t leave each other’s, at least not for very long.

It’s getting dark when they find themselves back in the city, waiting for the Christmas light-up. It’s even more crowded than this morning but it's okay because Jun’s hand is in his and there is no longer the crushing need to  _be_ anything but himself threatening to overtake his lungs. It’s quieter too, much quieter, and Wonwoo realizes with a start that almost everyone has used up their words.

There’s a hush over the crowd, a little bittersweet because there are many so words yet they want to say on top of all the wonderful ones they’ve already shared with their loved ones and something like regret tinges the air as they press themselves closer, conveying with their bodies what their tongue could no longer.

Its then that Wonwoo realizes one truth: This, too, is language. The touch of skin, the looks on people’s faces, the shine in their eyes. They might not be able to sign the way Jun and Wonwoo can and the meaning might not be as precise, but they still  _understand_ each other.

Not with their voices, not even with their hands, but their  _beings_ , their  _hearts_.

When Wonwoo looks to Jun, it's then that the lights turn on and it frames the younger's face in the most gorgeous way, making his eyes twinkle and his smile a million times brighter. There are soft cheers all around them and Jun signs, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Wonwoo signs back. Then he pulls Jun close and wraps his arms around the younger’s waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Jun merely chuckles, patting his hair.

Wonwoo decides then that  _this_ – the unspoken, second language of the people around him – wouldn’t be a too bad one to learn.

 

“Hey, wanna come over to my place?”

Jun’s eyes widen. “Are we at that stage of the relationship already?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Shut up. It's just that my feet are aching but I'm not tired enough to sleep yet.”

Jun pretends to think about it. “Can we make cookies?”

“Yeah, we can make cookies.”

They end up getting in a taxi to Wonwoo’s place because all the busses were too crowded and there's an extra charge because it’s Christmas but Wonwoo doesn’t think it's too bad considering he gets to see Jun’s adorable sleepy face resting on his shoulder the whole half an hour back.

They take turns showering and when Wonwoo steps out with his hair still dripping wet, Jun goes up and starts drying it for him like it’s nothing. Wonwoo blushes but Jun doesn’t notice. “You're going to catch a cold silly.”

“I’ll be fine.” He sneezes just then.

“ **Mmhmm** , sure you are.”

“...I was going to dry it myself.”

“If you say so.” But Jun doesn’t stop and Wonwoo doesn’t pull away.

They go make cookies and quickly find out that Junhui is better at it than Wonwoo is. Wonwoo wants to use some old premix he found in the back of his kitchen cupboard (“Probably from that time Soonyoung wanted to make weed cookies”) but Jun is horrified and doesn’t allow him to so they end up making the batter from scratch. Well, Jun does – Wonwoo watches, declaring himself too inept in the baking department but Junhui suspects he’s just too lazy after a day of walking around.

Jun doesn’t mind.

Once the cookies are done Wonwoo pours them a glass of milk each and they sit in front of the television, Jun finding a space for himself next to Wonwoo just like last time. His back is pressed against Wonwoo’s chest and the elder has a chin on the other boy’s shoulder, hair unknowingly tickling Jun’s ear.

It’s easy and natural and they fit perfectly together, so well that Wonwoo is suddenly wracked with the fear of letting go, of not having Junhui by his side tomorrow and the days after. He wants to know the warmth of another body going to sleep with him every night. He wants to wake up to that same warmth curled around him every morning. He wants to learn that unspoken language of hearts with Junhui. He wants to love him.

His grip tightens around the younger and he can’t help asking, “Where are you staying for the rest of the year?”

“At the dorms in my university but I’m only supposed to be moving in after the New Year.” Jun frowns. “The hotel was supposed to be good until then but...”

“Stay with me.”

“For so long?”

“For the rest of your time studying here.”

Jun swivelled around to look at him, shocked. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” and Wonwoo  _is._ “I have a spare room and the rent is much cheaper I can tell you that.”

“What’s the rent?”

“Breakfast every morning and for us to go on a date every weekend.”

Jun’s jaw drops. His eyes widen in surprise but they glitter with something like suppressed hope and it eases the nervous butterflies in Wonwoo’s tummy.

“Is this crazy? I know we just met yesterday but you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met, funny and kind, and I want this really nice boy to be mine someday but until then I’m willing to go on dates with you to get to know you better. Is that okay?”

“I-I...” Junhui drops his head suddenly and when Wonwoo lifts his chin up to see, the younger’s eyes are all watery and there are tears dripping down his cheeks. Wonwoo gently wipes his tears away. “Silly, don’t cry. You can say no if you don’t want to.”

“ **NO! I mean yes!** ” Jun shrieks out loud in Chinese. His face turns red at the sudden outburst, but Wonwoo just waits patiently for his translation, scarcely daring to hope.

Jun takes a deep breath, dropping his gaze and letting his hands speak for themselves. “What I mean is... I like you, Wonwoo. And I agree, this is crazy but I want it too. I want to stay with you and go on dates and maybe call you mine someday too. I want this with you.”

When he looks up again Wonwoo is grinning so widely it's threatening to fall off his face and Jun’s chest is swelling with happiness. “So is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Junhui laughs, all watery, and it’s one of the nicest things Wonwoo has ever heard. “Yes yes yes yes.”

“You know I just realized I didn’t get you anything,” Wonwoo says sometime later when they’re cuddling under the sheets again. He’s got his nose nuzzled in Junhui’s neck again and he’s come to realize the younger smells like tangy spices and cinnamon. Warm, homey.

“It’s okay. Today was a gift enough.”

“Hey, you’re right. I sacrificed a good day marathoning anime for you.” Wonwoo tilts his head back and Jun laughs.

“What about me then? What's my present?” Wonwoo asks.

Jun’s eyes twinkle mischievously before he's leaning forward, too fast for Wonwoo to really process. Their lips meet for a long few seconds. Then Jun pulls back, smiling wildly.

“What about that?”

Wonwoo is stunned. He doesn’t move. He’s frozen for so long that the smile drops from Jun's lips and he’s pulling back, muttering something in Chinese, something like an apology but Wonwoo stops him from saying any more by pulling him forward and kissing him again.

And again. And again. And again.

Wonwoo doesn’t stop kissing him, short little pecks all over his face that make the older boy burst into giggles. He signs something which Wonwoo can catch one word of – mistletoe.

 _Mistletoe? Fuck mistletoe_ , Wonwoo thinks, as he places another long kiss on Jun’s lips,  _This is the best Christmas ever._

**F I N**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Lisha for being my beta reader as ALWAYS although you won't read this again (probably not) thank you, I loveeee you <3


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